Mercer hated this. He hated that Nate saw him completely vulnerable and lost. He hated knowing Nate’s mum knew what happened to him and being a burden to her household. He hated feel so alone. People were around him sure, he had Baggy and Ferdinand and Nate—who shouldn’t have taken off work over his stupid, stupid problems. But still, Mercer felt utterly alone. Family meant everything to him, it’s why he overworked himself with his school studies and all the jobs he’s been in and out of to help contribute. He was rejected anyway. Maybe he had Greta and Colin, but did they want him back? No goodbyes could even be said that night he was put on the street. And his parents refused any contact. It left Mercer blaming himself and loving himself less than he already did. If Nate hadn’t been so around, maybe he’d even had left to avoid being more of a problem to anyone else. Why? Why couldn’t he be good enough? Why couldn’t he be what his mum and dad wanted? Why was he born this way?
His thoughts were interrupted by Nate’s muffled voice. His eyes closed, hugging the blanket closer because he was too tired to get up. But the fire alarm was persuasive and he slowly, finally got out of bed. He probably could have walked quicker, but was so confused by the burning smell and all the smoke filtering out of the kitchen. “What’s going on in here? Are you okay?” It was hard to focus even now, but he forced himself to make sure Nate was in one piece. “What were you thinking? You can’t turn these dials that high.” Mercer was switching the stove and oven off. With oven mitts, he moved the burning pots to a different burner and got the cakes out of the oven. It all smelled terrible and the heat almost went right through the mitts. “Please, turn the alarm off.” The loud noise was giving him a headache and he leaned against the counter, eyes closed as he tried to compose himself. Mercer wasn’t back to the smiling stage, but he wanted to at least sound alright. “Have you never cooked something before? You could have burned the place down.” Under normal circumstances Mercer would have found it amusing. He grabbed a towel and began to fan the kitchen, not that it cleared up the smoke any faster. “I think you should give it a while before trying to make anything soon. Or, you know…” He almost slipped up and offered to cook, but grew quiet instead. That’s how anyone could tell when something was wrong, when Mercer didn’t want to cook or eat.
“Oh, Mercer!” Nate exclaimed as if Mercer had just saved him, the pets and the whole house from burning down. He had everything under control, of course, he had -- he’d spent more time in that kitchen than on a Quidditch pitch. He just wanted Mercer to finally get out of his apathy, to get out of the bed and do even a simple thing such as taking a shower or play with the pets. It killed him to see Mercer in that state and he felt helpless when all of his attempts at making mercie feel better failed. He knew that the boy needed to heal and that it wasn’t going to be an overnight process but still, he wished there was more he could do to help.
“Oh right!” he waved his wand to turn the alarm off and open all of the windows in the kitchen. He even made sure to text their parents that everything is under control as they have most likely gotten the notification about the fire alarm at the house. “Come on Mercie, let’s go outside, we shouldn’t inhale all that smoke,” he said to his friend and grabbed his hand, leading him outside. “Way better, eh?” he smiled and sat down on the porch stairs, pulling Mercer down with him and wrapped his arms around the other. “Sorry for the alarm, I have no idea how did that even happen,” he mused, even though he knew exactly how did that happen. “Should we order a pizza instead? What’s your favourite?” he asked and looked up when a big fluffball Ferdinand joined them, grinning widely as he took a seat next to Mercer. “Good boy,” he leaned to scratch the dog’s head and then turned his attention back to Mercie. “So, pizza? Or something else?”
